Dedicated to the Cause
by Foxcat93
Summary: A different twist on "Person or Persons Unknown," a Season 3 Twilight Zone (original series) episode. I was requested to write the story by another FanFiction member, Retro Mania. He gave me the idea and most of the details. I simply wrote the story.
1. The Alstons

**Author's Note: This story was requested by another Fan Fiction member, Retro Mania. He gave me the idea and some suggestions as to how it should play out. The story itself is based on the third season episode** ** _"_** ** _Person or Persons Unknown."_** **I have used the words "Negro" and "colored" to reference African American people because those terms were in vogue at the time of the story. They are not meant to denigrate anyone.**

 _Rod Serling's Voice Over: You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind; a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. Your next stop...the_ Twilight Zone _._

It was the summer of 1962. Civil unrest, the product of years of black suppression had broken out in major American cities. The sit-ins and other peaceful demonstrations were at the forefront of the attention of the greater American public, whether they were living in a city with a large black population or not. Some were terrified, some were angry and others said, 'It's about time!' Television was bringing the details into the living rooms so everyone knew what was happening.

"Joe? Are you coming to bed soon?" The Alstons, Joseph and Nancy, had come to a hotel in the deep South to participate in something quite foreign to Nancy. She had never been one to join in any sort of rallies. She was from a nice southern family in Virginia who believed any of that quite below them. But Joe was the sort who was able to convince most anyone of his views. Nancy had never really thought about race relations until she met Joe. He fervently believed in the status quo, that Negros should know their place. If not, like lately, something must be done. In the years since they had been married, Joe had gone with his 'friends and acquaintances' in the dark of night to burn crosses, break windows and various other activities of which Nancy didn't even want to know. She only worried about his safety. But now she had to pay attention. The news was everywhere, the Negros were demanding their rights. And Joe and his associates were firmly against that.

"Joe?" Nancy, a young woman of 28 years called her husband again. She put down her newspaper on the bedside table. "Ugh. I don't even want to read about that any more." It seemed the Negros, aided by whites dedicated to the Civil Rights cause, were starting boycotts, protests, sit-ins and other battles against segregation. "Why can't they leave it as is? Causing all that trouble. Pffft," she hissed, as her husband entered the room and sat on the bed to take off his slippers and robe.

Joe was an accountant by day, but by night a completely different side of him came out. Joseph Alston was dedicated to fighting against the civil rights movement. And wife Nancy was now convinced that Joe was right.

"If it's up to me, we will quash all these protests and things will get back to normal. It's gotten out of hand though, you're right."

Joseph Alston was a handsome man a year older than his wife. His black hair and pale blue eyes had caught the eye of the former Nancy McNulty back in high school and they felt they had been made for each other. Nancy and Joe thought alike and agreed on most things.

Joe got into bed and pulled the covers over himself. He turned to Nancy and caressed her shoulder length blonde hair. Her smile was lovely, and her bright blue eyes were amazing. He kissed her goodnight. "I have a big day tomorrow. I think we will make some progress. The group is getting together to finalize the plans to quash the protesters in the city. Imagine, all of those white people turning on their own kind to uphold the Negroes! They deserve to be jailed as well as the Negros! And they will, if I have anything to say about it! Good night, sweetheart," he said as he turned out the lamp on his side of the bed.

"Good night, honey," she replied, smiling and cuddled up to her husband.


	2. A Colorful Change

The morning light filtered in through the lacy white curtains. Joe kept his eyes closed for a few minutes as he savored the feel of the cool sheets on his legs. He turned toward Nancy and was about to caress her hair to wake her up gently when what he saw made him back away from her and get out of bed. "Who the hell are you?" he screamed in rage. He pushed her out of bed savagely, then glanced at his own arms, which looked to be a shade of chocolate brown. Forgetting about Nancy for the moment, Joe rushed into the bathroom in panic. He looked in the mirror. He could hardly believe his eyes, but he was no longer himself. He was colored! His hair was tightly curled and he had full lips and his nose was wider. His eyes were no longer light blue but a dark brown. He stood for a moment in front of the mirror in total shock.

Meanwhile, Nancy awoke on the floor after that savage shove out of bed. "Joe, are you crazy?" she shouted, seeing that he was no longer in the room. She rubbed her head where she had bumped it and then stopped. Something was wrong. She didn't feel her smooth blonde hair, she felt as if she were wearing a tightly curled wig. But it wasn't a wig. She looked at her arms and they were a shade of brown. She became panicked as well, but she was afraid Joe would hurt her again. She hid in the closet until she could figure it out. Obviously Joe had thrown her out of bed because he saw her skin and thought her a Negro woman. She began to cry. How could this happen? Joe hated Negroes so much that he and his friends might beat her and drive her away. Certainly she could never go home looking like this. Could someone have perpetrated a terrible joke on her? She wet her finger and tried to rub off the brown of her skin. It didn't work. The color was real. She didn't know what she would do and she kept on crying.

Joe came back into the bedroom walking like a robot. How could this have happened? "Nancy? Where are you?" He heard sobbing from the closet. He pulled open the door and there was the black woman, curled up on the floor. It must be Nancy if he were still Joe. And he knew he was Joe. Who else could he be?

Nancy looked up at Joe and screamed again. Her first impression was that some colored person had come into their room for some nefarious reason. But wait, she was black too, or so it seemed. She stood up slowly. "Joe, is that you?"

Joe nodded. They stood there, just looking at each other, not understanding any of it. Then, in a rush, Nancy ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror. "Oh, my lord, how bizarre this is! How could I possibly have changed color?" Her hair was indeed tightly curled, and in what would become known as an "afro" style hairdo. Her lips were fuller and her bright blue eyes were now a very dark brown, almost indistinguishable from black. She was about to cry again. "Whatever will the neighbors say?" She put her hand to her mouth.

The implications of being colored in a white neighborhood were beginning to dawn on Joe and Nancy. And that was only the tip of the iceberg. They hadn't even thought of all the problems.


	3. It's A Lie

Not knowing what to do, Joe and Nancy sat in their room without talking. Nancy dressed in silence. Her clothes were still in the closet and she donned a light blue sheath dress with a crew neckline of a darker blue. She eschewed her usual pumps with a small heel for a more casual flat shoe in blue, matching her dress. Then Nancy put out some clothes for her husband, his dark suit with fashionable narrow lapels, dark shoes, white shirt and narrow dark blue tie. It matched the trim on her dress. Joe had taken his favorite pair of black oxfords for which he had paid a pretty price. But he had said they were worth the price, for they were very comfortable and looked fashionable.

Nancy put on her small pillbox hat, again in blue, with a bit of netting in the front over her hair. She had to look in the mirror to arrange the hat correctly on her differently styled hair. She put on a pair of white gloves.

She came back in the room dressed in her outfit and really looked lovely. Joe ignored her. This was taking a ltoll on his emotions. Nancy really needed a hug at this point, but Joe looked in no mood for it. He didn't want to touch Nancy. She seemed someone else, although he could tell from what she said, that it was his wife.

Then the telephone rang and both of them jumped. They let it ring several times. "Are you going to answer that?" asked Nancy. Joe nodded silently and picked up the receiver. "Yes?"

"Joe, this is Bill. It's 9:00. We are waiting for you….do you still have the address? Or did you get lost? Or abducted?" Joe could hear laughing in the background.

"No, I'm feeling … not so well this morning."

"What? The great Joe Alston put down by a few sniffles? Or is it more than that? Break your leg?" Again there was snickering and laughing in the background.

"I told you, I'm sick!"

"Are you coming tomorrow? Hey, I have an idea. Send the wife to take notes!" Again laughter.

"Dammit, Bill, I said I'm sick!"

"All right, all right, keep your shirt on. See you tomorrow."

Joe put down the receiver and took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy. "Maybe we'll be back to normal," she proposed.

"What if we're not?"

"Joe, I'm hungry. I would like some breakfast."

"Are you planning to go down and eat in the all white diner? They won't serve us there. And I certainly don't want to eat in the black only café."

"Goodness, no." Nancy shivered at the thought. "What about room service?"

Joe pondered it. "Yeah, that might work. Call down and order something. If we slip him a fiver, maybe he won't squawk. "

Nancy nodded and ordered a breakfast on the phone. Shortly thereafter, there was a knock on the door. It was brought up by a young, white waiter. When the door was opened, he almost dropped the tray. Instead, he put it on a table out in the hall for a moment. "Who are you?" he asked. "Mr. and Mrs. Alston's servants?"

Joe started to say, "No, of course not!" when Nancy elbowed him. "Yes, sir, we are the maid and the butler. We'll be serving the Alstons." The young man looked puzzled but brought the tray in and placed it on a table. Joe handed him the five dollar bill. "Compliments of Mr. Joseph Alston."

"Tell him thank you," replied the waiter who left, still looking puzzled.

Joe started to laugh as soon as the waiter left. "I guess we pulled one over on him, didn't we?"

"It would seem so," Nancy said. They were both hungry and started in on the very delicious breakfast. But about ten minutes later, there was another knock on the door. Joe and Nancy stopped in mid-bite and looked at each other.

"Open this door or we will break it down!" came the command from outside the door.

"What do you want?" asked Joe.

"I said, open the door!" This time Joe complied. There were three policemen, the hotel manager and the young waiter outside the door.

"Where are Mr. and Mrs. Alston?" asked the hotel manager.

"Not here," said Joe. "They went for a…a walk."

"No, no," cried Nancy. "You don't understand! WE are the Alstons; he's Joe, I'm Nancy."

"It's a lie," said the manager to the officers. "Throw them out!" He glared at the couple. "You're lucky I'm a kind man or I would have you thrown in jail! Don't you know this is a white-only establishment? The only Negros who are in this hotel work here! And I know for a fact you two don't work here!" He turned to the policemen. "Get them the hell out of here!"


	4. A Different Life

Joe and Nancy were pulled out of their room and taken down the back way. They were unceremoniously pushed out of the door into the back alley. Nancy was crying again. This was too much for her. She had never in her life been treated this rudely. This time Joe didn't shy away from hugging Nancy.

"What are we going to do, Joe?"

"I know exactly what we are going to do. We are going to get in the car and drive somewhere, anywhere. Maybe home. Maybe…my mother's place. Surely she'll believe us. She's only about fifty miles from here. We'll manage."

The two walked hand in hand to the hotel's parking lot. Joe had bought a shiny new black Lincoln a few months back and he was quite proud of it. He took out his keys and put them in the lock when he heard a yell. "Hey, you! Get away from that car!" Joe looked up. Two officers were running toward him, billy clubs in hand. Nancy backed away from the Lincoln, but Joe yelled at them while they ran toward him. "It's my car!"

The officers both took their billy clubs and beat Joe to the ground as Nancy screamed. His hands were up to protect his face. One of the cops pulled him up by the scruff of his jacket. "What are you doing trying to steal that car?"

"I'm not stealing it; it's mine!" said Joe. "I can prove it. I'm just going to go into the glove compartment to show you the title." He handed it to the officer.

"So? It belongs to a Mister Joseph Alston. I'm sure he will be pleased we apprehended you before you absconded with the vehicle!"

"Look. Here's my driver's license." He handed the cop his driver's license from his wallet."

"Oh yeah. That really looks like you," he sneered. "Stole his wallet and keys and thought you'd get away in his car. Not likely while I'm on duty!" The license photo was of course a picture of Joe before his skin turned the brown color. He realized it just as the officer sneered, and he and Nancy were being handcuffed. "Come on, we're going for a ride. And you too, lady. Get in the car." The cops shoved the Alstons into the back of their squad car and off they went to the station.

"Joe, are you all right? Your face is bleeding, honey." Now, in adversity, she had unconsciously begun to think of this black man as her husband Joe. And he as well saw her as Nancy. But they hadn't yet begun to see themselves as the oppressed, not the oppressors.

"I'm fine, baby." Soon they were forced out of the car at the police station."

They were processed quickly and thrown into separate jail cells. There were surprisingly quite a few women in the large cell with Nancy. Nancy looked at them, her eyes as wide as a dinner plate. The women were all black.

"OOOh, this one look so innocent…. What'd you do, honey?" came a voice from a woman who was obviously a shady lady, wearing a bit too much makeup, a lot of jewellery and a skirt that was above her knees. The others were more ordinary looking. One middle aged woman came up to her and patted her on the arm. "Don't let her bother you. She's harmless. Is this your first time?"

"First time for what?" asked Nancy.

"First time in jail," said the woman. Nancy nodded. "They say my husband and I stole a car, but it's not true! We didn't!"

"I know. Some of us have done things, but the majority haven't done anything at all. Most of us here were arrested at the civil rights rally over in the park this morning. We expected that might happen. We always are peaceful, like Dr. King says. We won't stoop to their level. And eventually they will see that we are right. Eventually."

"It's taking a damn long time!" said one of the women.

"We have to be patient. There are good people in the world. We just have to show them that we are good people as well." She turned back to Nancy. "My name is Danita Ross. And you are….?"

"Nancy Alston. Pleased to meet you." A day ago Nancy would not have been pleased to meet anyone of color.

Meanwhile, Joe was put in a jail cell full of black men. Before his 'change of color', he would have been horrified, thinking all these men were out to rob or kill him. But now he was one of them. There were a couple of real criminals in the bunch, in for theft or other petty crimes. But most of them had, as with the women, been arrested at the peaceful rally that morning. "Why do you do it?" said Joe. Why not take up arms and kill them all and take what's rightfully yours?" "We are following Dr. King and Rev. Abernathy's peaceful ideas. Rev. Abernathy's home and church were bombed back in '57 because of the Montgomery Bus Boycott, but lashing out in anger against them won't solve anything. It will just cause more conflict. We're better than that. Just last year Rev. Abernathy's church was being surrounded and laid siege to by segregationists because, in the church, we were holding an event for the Freedom Riders. I was there! And we do have friends in Washington, D.C. Why the President's brother, the Attorney General, Bobby Kennedy was called and he sent US Marshalls. When that didn't work, Mr. Kennedy called the Alabama governor to call in the Alabama National Guard. It took until the next morning, but finally they mob left. There was no bloodshed though. If we would have taken up arms, many of us would have died."

Joe was rather stunned. He had heard the news on the television of these events, but had seen it from the other side. He still couldn't believe he was 'one of them.' But it was true. Whatever strange and impossible thing had happened to Nancy and himself… it was doing something to him inside.

"When are you getting out?" Joe asked one of the men. "Probably tomorrow morning."

"I don't suppose they will let me out tomorrow…."

"Probably not. They think you stole a car. You might have a trial, you might not."

Joe had an idea. Since his driver's license was in the custody of the police, he might be able to perpetrate a little deception. He asked if anyone had a piece of paper to spare and he started writing. The note went like this:

"I am giving this note to Tom Brown, my chauffeur, who drives my Lincoln for me. He has every right to drive my car at anytime and anywhere at my convenience. Do not detain him for any reason." Joe signed his own name. It would match the signature on his driver's license. Joe started yelling then, and banging on the bars. "I need someone to look at this!"

A young officer was dispatched to see what was the matter. Joe gave him the note and said he hadn't had time to show the arresting officers. The young man apparently believed it. He took it to the sergeant and strangely enough, let Joe out of the cell. He asked for Nancy to be let out as well. When the two were reunited, they embraced. "Get out now," said the sergeant, " before I charge you with loitering."


	5. No Place to Go

Soon they were out on the street, but with no place to go. Nancy had not had time to take her purse with her, and the police kept Joe's wallet, saying it wasn't his. So they had no money whatsoever. The police had taken the keys to his car as well. "Where will we sleep tonight?" asked Nancy.

"I don't know." said Joe solemnly. "I suppose they patrol the park."

Nancy didn't want to mention that she was hungry. She knew they had no money.

"Maybe there is a Mission nearby that will let us stay the night." Joe checked the book in a phone booth and found an address. "It's a couple of miles. We'll have to walk." They started off walking and Nancy's feet began to hurt. She glanced down at her feet and saw something greenish blowing gently in the breeze. She grabbed it before it had a chance to be blown away. "It's a dollar!" she said excitedly. "We can take the bus! Look, money!" Joe laughed at her exuberance over a dollar, but yes, it would buy them a ride on the bus. They waited at the nearest bus stop for twenty minutes, and finally the city bus arrived. They got on and paid their fare and Nancy sat down in the first seat. The driver had started the bus when he noticed. He stopped it again. "He confronted the couple. "Hey! You know the rules. Colored in the back! Now git!" He actually pushed Nancy and she almost fell, one shoe off and one on. Carrying the shoe, she abashedly stumbled to the back of the bus and sat down next to several other black people. "The nerve of him, pushing me!" she murmured to herself. Joe sat next to her. He felt dehumanized, as if he had no dignity any more.

They reached the stop for the Mission and went inside the old crumbling building. Inside, the lights were dim, but the food smelled good. Nancy and Joe took their place at the back of the line. The servers, people both white and colored, smiled and gave out the food with a friendly greeting. Finally, Nancy felt as if she were among friends. But not for long. They sat down at a table and everyone got up and went elsewhere. Another black couple came over and sat with them. "Rude as can be," said the man. "But we all get used to it. Not that we should." He introduced himself and his wife, saying they had fallen on hard times after he lost his job. They chatted a bit and were told they could bed for the night in a place down the road. When they arrived, they discovered that they would be separated again. Two rooms for women, one white, one colored and two the same for the men.

Nancy took one look at the bed she was assigned and gasped in horror. The sheets were not clean and there were bed bugs and fleas on the bed and roaches on the floor. She squealed in horror and ran to the door.

"Where is my husband?" she demanded of the woman supposedly in charge. The woman looked up with a bland look. "Obviously, if he's here, he's in with the men. You can't go in there."

"But I must! I can't stay here!"

"Oh? Accommodations not good enough for the Queen of England?" She laughed harshly. "Sorry, your Majesty. Either go back to your assigned bed or out on the street."

Fortunately, Joe had the same idea. He was going to speak to the woman in charge about the atrocious accommodations when he saw Nancy. "Let's get out of here," he whispered to her. They both hurried out the door.

"Now what?" asked Nancy. "Where are we going to sleep?"

"I don't know, sweetie." They walked and walked. The park was nearby and Joe thought perhaps they could sneak into one of the buildings. Everything was locked though, and there were police patrolling the area, considering that was the place where the rally had been held the previous morning. It was rumored there would be another demonstration tomorrow morning.

Soon Joe and Nancy were so tired that they sat on the grass next to a building. It was a boat house, and in their other life, they used to rent boats for a little romantic sojourn on a lovely little lake in the midst of a park. Joe owned a sail boat of his own as well, and he thought about that. It would have been a lovely day for sailing.

Then it started to rain. It was a warm gentle rain, for it was summer in the south, but gradually it became a torrent and the wind made it cold. Joe hunkered next to the building and Nancy sat on his lap, her arms around his neck. "This is ridiculous," muttered Joe. "I don't know if that flea ridden bed would be any better though."

Finally the rain let up and Joe and Nancy went to sleep in their wet clothes. Quite a change from last night's comfy hotel bed.


	6. The March

The next morning dawned with no sign of any more rain. Joe and Nancy awoke with their clothing mostly dry. Nancy didn't feel well, her throat was scratchy and her head ached. But there was no sense in complaining; nothing could be done.

It appeared that there would be another demonstration as people began to gather. Joe and Nancy stood up and realized they were right in the middle of it. "Let's get out of here," said Joe.

"Joe, what if we stay? After all, we are part of them now, the Negros I mean... and they are treated badly. I think we should stay and see if we can help. Why not? Where else are we welcome?"

Joe thought a moment, then grudgingly nodded. "I suppose you're right. We have nowhere else to go."

Nancy went up to a woman who seemed to be in charge and she told them there would be a peaceful march up the main street, with people holding signs. There would be singing of hymns and other songs and then several prominent local black leaders would give speeches.

Joe and Nancy were given signs and told where to stand. Soon the march began and it went as planned until they had gone a half mile or so. Police appeared out of nowhere and demanded an end to the march. The marchers were told to "break it up," and to "move on." When they refused, fire hoses were brought out and aimed at the marchers. The force of the water knocked many protesters down and then attack dogs were sent in as well. Nancy was shocked and overwhelmed. Joe and Nancy were arrested and put in cells again.

Nancy sat down and cried this time. The same woman she had seen the day before, Danita Ross, found her again. She smiled. "I see you were with us today. We're going through a rough patch. But we have to stand up for what we believe in." Nancy nodded through her tears and let the older woman put her arm around her shoulders. "There, there, sugar, things will be brighter soon. We are fighting the good fight..."

Joe, in the men's cell was hearing the same sentiments from the marchers. He was beginning to think, strangely enough, that the marchers were correct and that segregation and discrimination were despicable. But he didn't care to be locked up in a cell, be water hosed, have dogs attack, and all the other things that happened. He wanted out of this cell and to leave this city as soon as he could collect his wife.

The promise that all the marchers would be let out tomorrow gave Nancy hope. She was miserable and wanted to be out of this place. She was sniffling even worse than she had been before the torrent of water had hit her and soaked her through and through again. She lay down on one of the hard benches in the cell and Danita gave her a rolled up sweater for under her head. She fell asleep.


	7. Home at Last

The warm sun came in through the window as Nancy awoke, disoriented. She was in a room, a hotel room... the same one she and Joe had occupied before their lives had radically changed. And she looked at her arms. She was white again! She glanced at Joe, just awakening as well. He was back to normal as well. "Oh Joe, I had the most horrendous dream!"

Joe awoke and looked around the bright and cheery room. He listened as Nancy detailed her dream. "You're not going to believe this, but I had the exact same dream."

Just then the telephone rang. "Joe, this is Bill. Now we've been waiting for you for a couple of days. The protests have started and where are you? Living it up in the hotel room with that pretty wife of yours?" There was laughter from the background. "You two can't be that sick!"

"Ah... we're better, Bill, but it's something contagious. The wife has it too. I think we're just going back home."

"Suit yourself." Bill hung up unceremoniously.

"Nancy, I've decided that I'll give up that group. Bill can find someone else to do his dirty work. I don't feel right about it any more."

"I was hoping you'd say that, honey." She embraced Joe.

"So … what about celebrating by driving home, having a nice lunch and then dropping off those paintings my mother and dad wanted." Joe's parents were beloved by both their son and his wife. They were like a second set of parents to Nancy. The older Alstons always made Joe and Nancy feel at home.

Their plans went perfectly, and driving up to his parents' house, Joe unloaded the paintings. Nancy rang the bell and the door opened.

An older, but still pretty, black woman came to the door. She was wearing a pink house dress with a wide skirt. "Yes, can I help you?" she said.

Joe and Nancy were confused. "I'm looking for Mrs. Joanne Alston. She's my mother and I'm bringing some paintings that she asked for... I'm sorry, who are you?"

The black woman looked confused now. "Why, I'm Joanne Alston...and who are you?"

The End


End file.
